I love Islam and cream soda

If our criminal justice system is the "New Jim Crow", and if our prisons are neo-plantations, then our network of county and city jails are akin to slave ships - the "New Amistad", if you will.  There's an appropriate visual when you consider cells like those in Colorado's Arapahoe County Detention Center that have been modified from double to triple bunks - at a glance they resemble the cramped bowels of slave ships where African inmates-as-cargo were lain in tight stacks and rows.      Appropriate analogies abound - like slaves, jail inmates are a valuable commodity; local lockups get paid per body and operate like any business by cutting costs of operation as much as possible to maintain create revenue. Slave traders made and maintained profits by providing the barest minimum for slaves to survive transport to auction, often leaving them naked with no medical care and feeding them scraps for food. Jail menus provide so minimal calories and

For several reasons might voting in this year's midterm elections. I was proud to have voted in a state with the second highest percentage of voter turnout. Colorado trailed only Minnesota, who I was happy to see voted another Muslim into Congress. On the candidate front, two races were of interest to me: governor and Atty. general. I voted for the victorious Jared Polis mostly because walker Stapleton was an offshoot of his races grandfather (I did not know Polis was gay, and that is the point, is it not?) Stapleton touted a policy of stripping funding from schools to use torch prisons - a policy of doubled-dipped racism. The woeful state of education in our country is a consequence of white rage over school desegregation, and the cancerous growth of incarceration is a product of similar origin, aimed to steer blacks and other minorities out of mainstream society. I voted against George Brauchler running for the Atty. General in response to his malicious over prosecut

While locked down fighting (and beating) a frame-up, I read books and did pull-ups... Here's what I polished off in 10 months (Feb-Dec '18) *disclaimer, I absolutely did indeed read every title listed. Aries Decision (Ludlum/Mills) White Rage (Carol Anderson)  must read! Black Pain (T. Williams) Rules of Betrayal Naughtier Than Nice Anthology of American Poetry (Rita Dove) Aces High

In the pit of my belly, John Wick's dog just got killed - but presently, the dominate feeling up in my heart is freedom - and gratitude. There is an ayat of Quran that quotes Zakariya praying, stating to God that "I have never been unsuccessful in my prayer to You" - It is a verse that rings throughout my mind in context to my ordeal. I have questioned a lot during the last 10 months but my faith in Him seeing my thru did not waver. I am first grateful to Him, good times and bad.

July is always a mash up month for me, where the elation of summer and the melancholy of mourning meet. The first day of the month marked 8 years since my daughter Octavia Shwayyah Rashid passed away. Despite the pain that inevitably accompanies the loss of a loved one, Shwayyah's life and death leave heavier imprints of joy on my heart. The oldest of my first brood of stepkids, our relationship was meshed with struggle as I wrestled my way through parenthood. By the time she became a parent herself, we had reconciled a difficult past. Our relationship changed, and Shwayyah became my confidant, an inspiration. Shwayyah taught me. She taught me that all of the kids I raised turned out pretty dope, despite my screwups, because my presence, intentions, and struggles to be a parent counted more than I could ever realize. She teasingly called me "Pops" because I was "getting old." My daughter's death is sans tragedy. The only "bad" thing was how

You age more, and fight less. At least, that's the general rule. I haven't had a real knock down, drag out street brawl since 2012, when I turned the tables on 2 dudes harassing my daughter over her head scarf (after I checked them, they made the mistake of jumping on me). Barring a fracas here and there, working in the club especially, and not counting the innumerable whuppings my dojo teammates have given me, last Saturday broke the streak. Enter Percy Boatner, 3rd of his name, known by most as "Shoog." Meeting him, I quickly got the impression that he was trying to live up to the bully persona, the namesake of former Death Row CEO, Mr. Knight. Truth be told, if it weren't for him being physically

Dear Jannah, There there a few reasons that I write this, the foremost being the obligation to tell my own story, an obligation incited by your unsound attempt to narrate your own excerpt. The author Nathan McCall is one of my heroes. Our lives parallel at points (he grew up in my parents' neighborhood, went to prison, embraced Islam, became a writer) and I began conversing with him in 2012, which sealed the deal for me. Of course there are detractors, who tell me to be quiet, to "let itgo," but I remain resolute. There's another favorite author of mine who suffered for not being quiet. Instead she spoke up...and got shot in the face for 3 words. Those 3 words that brought her a world of pain, set her, and many others free. She said, "I am Malala," and changed the world. I am not Malala, but she is like me - I gotta a big mouth, and of course you know I'm going to reply to anyone who claps at me in the craven way you did. It's easy, isn'